#coulda fooled me
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"Well you know the first thing you gotta do is determine if it's a right angle triangle or not"
#tsitp#tsitpedit#the summer i turned pretty#this is them post break-up!!#coulda fooled me#bellyconrad#bellyconradedit#belly x conrad#conrad x belly#belly conklin#conrad fisher#tsitpedits#*my gifs#*my tsitp
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Someone help I canāt stop taking photos of my gorgeous Rook
#da:tv#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age Rook#rook dav#my rook#most of my hours in this game have been spent in photo mode#deeply deeply obsessed with her#I wish I could have gotten my inquisitor to look half this good#thereās a plot to this game?#coulda fooled me#Iāve been playing a dress up game this whole time#rook#datv rook#rook mercar#shadow dragon rook#qunari
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no because my neil josten sim has a fear of death
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geordie shore is the british jersey shore its amazing
yāall got shores in england??
#coulda fooled me#do they say roight wots all dis den#she speaks#she also responds#spillways mp3 my beloved
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Here's the second part of Cult Reincarnation Dipper!
The first part is over Here if you missed it.
Hope you enjoy!
āHere we are!ā Bill says brightly. He nods approvingly at the room, then glances back at Dipper. āGlad you didnāt take off running during the trip.ā
How Dipper could have managed that, he isnāt sure. The instant they appeared in this place, Bill took hold of Dipperās wrist and hasnāt let go even once.Ā
The nightmare realm is exactly as advertised. Dipperās been pulled through mazelike corridors, up and down impossible hallways, over insane physic-defying structures - and past things with too many teeth and eyes.Ā
He thinks heās been holding up pretty well, all things considered.Ā
Being dragged by a nightmare god into his realm of dreams for unknown reasons wasnāt exactly on his bucket list. Without any helpful explanations, or even unhelpful ones, heās stayed calm and followed along.Ā Remaining obedient, keeping quiet, and waiting in hopes of Bill either giving up, or giving him any indication of where the hell they are and what the fuck heās doing.
Now theyāve arrived, and the destinationā¦ isnāt exactly encouraging.
Dipper looks over the gleaming instruments hung on the walls. The needles and scalpels and hooks. He drops his gaze towards the white paper on the chair, at the poorly hidden restraints.
A place of insanity and terror, owned by a king of nightmares, dragging along a vulnerable human with a badly injured arm. Of course heād end up in a house of medical horrors. Itās too thematically appropriate.
So yeah. Dipperās been holding on fine. Only his legs have decided theyāve had enough for the day, and given up.Ā
His robes puddle around him as he hits the floor. The tileās very cold and sterile under his legs, and his arm trembles in Billās unwavering grip.Ā Ā
āHey! What gives?ā Bill tugs on Dipperās wrist again. Thankfully not hard enough to haul him to his feet.Ā
Dipper shakes his head. The floorās fine. Heāll stay right here, thank you very much. Trying to retrieve his wrist doesnāt work, but he makes a good show of it.
āNice try,ā Bill says, dryly. āBut thereās no escaping! Now get on up and have a seat already.āĀ
For the first time, his grip loosens. Dipper yanks his arm towards his chest, attempts to stumble to his feet. His legs fail to cooperate, sliding out in front of him like heās putting up a tantrum rather than an escape attempt.
With a quick snort, Bill ducks down and tucks his hands under Dipperās arms. A moment later he lifts Dipper bodily into the air, and appraises him with a smile.
Dipper kicks out in surprise, struggling for purchase - then lets his legs dangle in the air, limp. Flailing around isnāt going to help. Odds are itād make things worse.Ā
If there was ever a mistake Dipper shouldnāt make, it would be accidentally whacking a god in the groin.Ā
Bill bounces him in his grip a couple times, with a pleased smile, and seemingly zero effort. The human form heās wearing isnāt bulky; heās just stronger than he appears. Dipper should have guessed as much. Heās in the demon realm, brought here - kidnapped by -Ā an eldritch, too-powerful being. Any resistance he puts up is as much of a shield as tissue paper.Ā
With a nod, Bill turns a full ninety degrees, and drops him directly into the chair. The leather of the seat creaks underneath Dipper as he hits it, and he instantly straightens up, back rigid.
āThere we are.ā Bill smirks with satisfaction. He points directly at Dipperās face with a sudden frown. As it comes closer, Dipper leans as far back as he can manage.Ā āNow stay. Put.ā
The tone is very firm, and, well. Obedience is the name of the game, when it comes to a āgodā.Ā Ā
Dipper simply nods. Bill beams again, then retreats to start pulling drawers open, rustling through them and muttering to himself.Ā
Whatever heās up to, Dipper doesnāt care to guess. From what he can tell, the entire room is made for easy cleaning, and the objects donāt lend him any comfort. Tons of gleaming instruments hang on hooks and boards, pale metal against white walls.Ā The soaked sleeve of his robe is leaving little dots on the seat and armrests. Every spot of red stands out so brightly in this sterile white environment.
Dipper clutches his arm to his chest again. Not budging. Just as he was told. Thereās a thin prickle of sweat building on his skin.Ā
A sound catches his attention, and he glances up at Bill, whoās wearing a big, bright grin. Heās holding something glass in one hand, and a glint of metal in the other.
Dipper keeps trying to maintain pressure on his wound. Billās approaching without even a hint of hesitation - without being able to talk, he simply shakes his head again and again. Heās fine, this is great, they can go anywhere else, just donāt -Ā
āWhat?ā Bill cocks his head to the side, and grins again. āEasy, I donāt bite! Much.ā
He has very sharp teeth, Dipper notices. With how human that form is, he hadnāt paid much attention to the details.Ā
The white of his smile has fangs.Ā
āYeesh, tense much?ā Bill raises an eyebrow, carelessly dropping a metal box in Dipperās lap. The other one shows the glass to be a corked bottle - small, round and filled with greenish liquid. Bill starts shaking it rapidly, beckoning with his free hand. āGimme that arm, already.ā
When Dipper doesnāt move, Bill slowly pries his arm away from his chest. He pushes it down onto the armrest - and before Dipper can react, the makeshift bandage of his robes is ripped off at the elbow, leaving him bare.Ā
Dipper watches the blood trickling down over the seat with a nauseating flip in his stomach. He can look away - does, quickly - but worse, heās oddly embarrassed. Everything in here was so pristine before he started leaking on things.
āEh, could be worse.ā Bill chimes in over Dipperās thoughts. A brief glance shows heās evaluating the wound; he waggles a hand in a so-so gesture. āDecent blood flow, but damage-wise? Youāll be wielding a knife yourself in no time!ā
God, what a weird thing to say. Dipper half-shrugs in response.Ā
He hopes Billās right, though. Not the knife-wielding, but that itās not too bad. It certainly feels bad, but Dipper doesnāt have enough experience to tell how, or if, heāll recover. Heās never seen a sacrifice, with a person, that called for that much blood. Especially one that got soā¦ enthusiastic.Ā Ā
Or perhaps there was, and Dipper just looked away, like he always does. Heās never had the stomach for this sort of thing. Hell, he still doesnāt; as Bill gets settled, Dipper turns and starts counting all the knives on the walls.Ā
Yep. Thereās definitely a lot of them. So many, and none of them are in Billās hand at the moment. He tries to focus on that as well. The box in Dipperās lap is too small to contain anything but the tiniest of the scalpels, too. Another good sign, if heās feeling optimistic.
Thereās the sound of something uncorking. Then, liquid dripping down Dipperās arm and over his wrist, a bright, sparking sting - he grits his teeth, ready for the pain to build, and feels -Ā
Nothing?
Dipper blinks. Heās lost count of the knives, but he does get an excellent view of the empty bottle sailing across the room, and shattering on the opposite wall. Quickly followed by the cork, with a spitting sound; Bill probably pulled it out with his teeth.Ā
Thereās a vague prod. Dipper cringes on reflex, shoulders tensing. The next one feels firmer, and not in a great place, but.Ā
It doesnāt hurt at all.Ā
Well, no. It does, a little. If Dipper clenches his arm and makes a fist, he can feel a kind of stingĀ - and hear Bill mutter under his breath. So he probably shouldnāt do that. But other than that faint ache, the pain is gone, leaving a chill semi-numbness in its place.Ā
Beside him, Bill makes a satisfied sound. He flips open the box in Dipperās lap, pulls something out - then starts doing something weird to his arm.Ā
Dipper feels a pinch, then a tugging sensation. He sucks in a breath.
āHold still, already.ā Billās grip tightens, holding him in place. Dipper can tell because when moves his fingers again, he can just about tickle the underside of his arm. āHey! Whatād I just say!ā
Dipper stops moving. Obedient, definitely. Totally not questioning what the hell is happening to his flesh, or worried at all. He only flinches a bit at the repeated pinch-tug-pinch, running a line down his arm.Ā
With the numbness, itās easy to focus on breathing in, and out, in a steady rhythm. Passing time, until Billās done with his gruesome work.
āThere we go.ā Bill stands up, wiping his hands clean on a bright white cloth. He offers Dipper another easy grin. āNot too shabby, am I right?ā
Dipper hesitates, but. Heās going to have to face the damage at some point. Might as well be now, while heās still numb and lightheaded.Ā
First, he sees Bill, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Then the arm itself, looking pale and small, with a long, thin line of stitches running up the wound.Ā
No mutations, no mutilations. Just clean, closed skin.
Wow, that was a big cut. It didnāt really hit him until he saw it sewn up.Ā
Dipperās no expert on medical anything, but it must be decent work; Bill looks pleased with himself, for one, and the stitches themselves are neatly placed in even lines. Weirder still - it hasnāt been tinkered with, or experimented on at all.
Bill not-too-gently pats his wrist again, before wrapping Dipperās entire forearm in bright white gauze. He hums to himself as he works. Just as he snips off the bandage with a pair of scissors, he pauses.Ā
āHm, kinda missing something,ā Bill mutters, almost to himself. Then his expression brightens, and he snaps his fingers. āAha!ā
Dipper winces at the full-palm slap on his wrist. Ow. Even numbed, that stung.Ā
āThere! All patched up.ā Bill says. He sets his fists on his hips, looking triumphant. āWhatādāya think, kid?ā
Dipper looks down, and stares. Heās not really sure how heās supposed to react.
Instead of taping the bandages in place, Billās smacked on a sticker. One of Bill himself, triangular-formed, and giving a disproportionately big thumbs-up.Ā
āAhem.ā Bill clears his throat.
When Dipper checks, that seemingly eternal grin has popped right back into place. Expectant. Almost prompting.Ā
Come to think of it - itās the exact same one Dipper saw after the ritual, not that long ago.
The one that he still doesnāt know how to answer.Ā
Dipper pulls his arm up, holding it close. He touches the bandages carefully, tracing down the line of his wound. All his fingers still work. All his skin seems to have stayed in place. Even the numbness has lingered well past the actual procedure.Ā
Bill Cipher himself, lord of chaos and nightmares, had a hold of a wounded piece of mortal meat. And as far as Dipper can tell, nothingās missing, nothingās mangled, and it doesnāt even hurt.Ā
Of all the things Dipper imagined about meeting Bill Cipher - and he can imagine a lot more things than the average guy -Ā
This would never have made the list.Ā
Bill hasnāt said anything. For a while now. Enough time has passed that the silence has grown awkward, because really Dipper should have done something by now, damn it. There has to be -Ā
āOh, right!ā Bill breaks the silence with a snap of his fingers. His eye rolls; he even smacks himself on the side of the head in a ādang, canāt believe I forgotā gesture. āMajor bloodloss! No human brain works great when itās improperly irrigated.āĀ
Whichā¦ is true, sure. Dipper does feel pretty woozy, but more likely Billās referring to not getting a response.Ā
Thatās one thing he can fix, sort of. Dipper tries another smile. Hesitant, but not forced.Ā
Bill just raises an eyebrow. āYeah, yeah, youāre cute. Donāt think flaunting it gets you anywhere.ā
Dipper lets his smile drop.Ā
Okay, what? That was not what he was going for, and - and it doesnāt make sense, anyway. Bill must have meant something else, because heās not cute. Kind of a condescending thing to call a guy whoās just showing heās grateful.
Even though he should know better, Dipper flashes an irritated glance at this idiot godās face.Ā He folds his arms, letting out a huff.
And Bill lunges in with startling speed.Ā
Dipper jerks back in the chair only for Bill to follow, face inches away, sharp teeth bared in a wide smile. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and his single eye narrows.Ā
With rising tension, Dipper notes that said eye is actually glowing. Thereās intent there, focused and strange - and even worse, the slow stir of magic building between them.
This is what he gets, isnāt it. For being a huge goddamned idiot, and insolent, and why did he do that of all-
āBoop.ā Bill taps Dipperās nose, and stands back up. As if to add insult to incoherence, he also pinches Dipperās cheek. āNow! Upsy-daisy, kid! We gotta get you settled in!ā
Dipper remains seated, even as Bill claps his hands and gestures for him to rise. At one point he even leans over and taps his thighs, in a deeply condescending beckon. If it wouldnāt be suicidally insane, Dipper would flip him off for that.Ā
How is Dipper not dead yet. How is he not insane yet. This doesnāt make sense.Ā
Nothing here makes sense.Ā
But then, maybe Dipper should have expected that. Nightmare logic aside, heās dizzy and tired, and itās hard to keep figure out whatās insane demon-god stuff, what heās simply lost track of.
Waiting for too long has had its consequences, of course. For the second time in an hour, Dipper gets hauled up by a too-strong monster. This time, heās set on his feet pretty shortly, instead of being swung around like some kind of carnival prize.
Dipper hits the ground as Bill drops him, and stumbles. The world spins around him, and he nearly drops to the floor again until he braces himself on the closest solid-looking object.
The object moves under his arm. Above him, he hears loud, pleased laughter. āAw, getting touchy, are we?ā
Dipper stares at his arm, braced against a firm chest - then up at Billās wide grin. Then down again, where heās wrinkling Billās shirt.
Shit. Wrong choice. Bad choice - but there wasnāt much of a choice! If Dipper didnāt want to fall on his ass, he had to grab something.
āI know, I know. Iām too tempting to resist.ā Bill says, sounding eminently amused. Almostā¦ teasing? He takes Dipper by the shoulder, turning him around towards the door. āLetās get outta here.ā
Wherever āhereā is. Wherever theyāre going is even more worrying.
Still, Bill doesnāt seem mad about the invasion of his personal space. Or anything else, weirdly enough. Maybe Dipperās misinterpreting the signs; he wouldnāt be the first worshiper to do so.Ā
Mystery is part and parcel of Bill Cipher, one of his core essences. No part of him is uncomplicated or simple, because he loves making things difficult. Thereās supposed to be puzzles, layered over each other in complex ways to obscure the truth. Every time Bill talks to one of the devout, it requires careful interpretation -Ā
But there are too many possibilities, and Dipperās too disoriented to keep up with any double-talk.Ā Ā
Bill opens the door into another black-red brick corridor. It looks like it could go anywhere, and everything about it screams ominous.
In a particularly stupid move - though one born of self-preservation - Dipper shoves himself into Billās grasp. He grips the shirt, hip bumping against the god, and Bill makes a quiet sound of surprise.
For a heartstopping moment, Dipper knows heās fucked up.
Then the arm comes around him, and pulls him in tight. Squeezing his shoulder, then dropping around his waist, hand loosely holding his hip.
āGood choice, sapling! Your fleshy human vestibular sense is for shit, and I didnāt patch you up just to watch you break your skull on the ground.āĀ Bill chucks Dipper under the chin with a knuckle and winks. āIf I wanted a corpse, I could get those anywhere.ā
Whichā¦ makes a terrifying kind of sense.
Billās right, of course. Heās an immensely powerful god-creature, who can reach in between worlds, given the opportunity. He commands dreams, and people, and an all-consuming amount of magic.Ā
If he wanted a corpse, he could have one in moments. And if he wanted it to be Dipperās, all he really had to do wasā¦ nothing.
As Bill pulls him into the hallway, Dipper checks his wrist again. He flexes his fingers, and sticks close to his āgodā.Ā
His armās a little achy, as the numbness begins to fade. The gauze is tight enough to feel comforting rather than constraining, clean and wrapped with obvious care. Even with the slight pain, it feels like heās going to heal up just fine.
And though itās incredibly stupid, the super cheesy sticker does kind of make him feel better.Ā
Obviously Bill likes Dipperās blood. He said as much during the summon; that itās āvery niceā. Likely itās the reason Dipper was kidnapped in the first place.Ā
But instead of juicing him like an orange, Bill took pains to keep all of it inside.
āAs long as weāre stopping you from kicking the bucket,ā Bill snaps his fingers. A small, squarish carton appears, and he holds it in front of Dipper. āYou might wanna drink this.ā
Dipper grimaces atā¦ whatever this is. He canāt read the language, but itās decorated with a smiling thing that could be either a heart, or a severely mutated fruit.
He glances up at Bill again, but no explanation is forthcoming. He merely waggles the carton around again, nearly shoving it into Dipperās chest.
Welp. A āgodā has ordered him to consume something. Obedience, right, still a virtue. Hell, even if Bill wanted Dipper to swallow liquid mercury, he wouldnāt have much of a choice in the matter.
Poison isnāt very likely, though. Bill doesnāt want a dead body around, and heās put in way too much effort to reverse course now.Ā
Bill raises an eyebrow, tapping the drink invitingly against his chest. At this point Dipper suspects the lack of explaining is intentional.
Fine, whatever. If heās going to insistā¦Ā
Dipper still gives it a skeptical look, but he takes it from Billās hand. Not accepting a godās gift is probably rude. Offending him isnāt any more helpful than dehydration.
And though all the advice about dealing with supernatural beings says, ādonāt consume what they give youā, Bill does have a point. Humans are full of liquid. Dipper lost a decent portion of his own. Filling it back up isnāt the worst idea in the universe.
The top twists open, though Dipper doesnāt dare glance at the contents. Heāll just shut his eyes and chug.Ā
He takes several long, deep drinks, tilting his head back. At first to help himself swallow - then more, and eagerly, because holy shit, heās so thirsty. He didnāt realize until he started, but he really, really needed this.Ā
With the portion of his tongue he has left, he tastes a faint sweetness, like strawberries.
āTop up your tank, kid.ā Bill gives Dipper another nudge, almost playful. āHumans are basically half-fluid. To go at it like that, you musta been practically mummified!ā
Weird phrasing seems to be a thing for Bill. Better get used to it.Ā
Since heās not looking at him, Dipper rolls his eyes and makes a face. Just a quick, two-second expression.Ā
Beside him, Billās grin inches up a tiny bit. He starts whistling a cheerful tune as he leads them onward.
Itās an indeterminate amount of time before they stop - Bill, fresh and cheerful, Dipper, wondering how much longer he has to be on his feet - but eventually Bill whips around a corner, facing a brown wooden door in the middle of one of the black slate walls.
Great. Another mystery room, and by the look on Billās face - one heās been eager to get to.Ā
By this point Dipperās pretty sure Billās not about to execute or exsanguinate him At least 90% sure; itās hard to tell when dealing with a being of pure chaos.Ā
But he still slows his steps as Bill sets his hand on the knob, leaning back into that guiding arm on his waist. Unpredictability has always unnerved him.Ā
Bill turns towards Dipper with a brilliant smile. āIāve been looking forward to this.ā He says, almost conspiratorially. He nudges Dipper forward as he opens the door. āWelcome home, sapling!ā
With a gust of warm air and a light that leaves Dipper blinking, the door opens.
And with a proud smile, Bill Cipher leads him into the single most luxurious looking room heās ever seen in his life.Ā
Dipper stares. Maybe gawks a little, but he shuts his mouth quickly.
No matter where he looks, everything oozes rich, sumptuous leisure.Ā
Thereās paintings, and tapestries, a soft thick black carpet. A huge, soft-looking couch near a fireplace, odds and ends of scattered jewels and technical looking objects on the walls. Thereās even a portrait of Bill himself, in his regular form, with a foot upon the world. Large double doors lead to another room, and though the partly open crack Dipper thinks he spots a bed.
On the second glance around, Dipper catches on. That subtle gleam, that catches his eye, seemingly everywhere - is freakinā gold. Not just the occasional pierce of decoration, either; itās subtly woven into parts of all the decor, thin lines on furniture and doors and even some in the carpet.Ā
Billās room so far beyond the dark, stoic asceticism of the compound. Miles away. Lightyears.
Why the hell did they have a shitty stone cavern to worship in, if their god lives like this?
No, thatās easily answered -the priest always was a dick.
Dipperās not thrilled about what Bill did to the guy back at the ritual, but heās far from upset.
Beside him, Billās silent. For once heās not shuffling Dipper along anywhere. No prompting, no pushing, no force of any kind -Ā
But definitely expectant.Ā
Without Bill saying anything, Dipper can feel his arm tense up with anticipation, awaiting a reaction. Probably something flattering to Billās ego, or worshipful of his presence.
Truth be told, Dipper might have even given one. Despite all his reservations about the chaos god beside him, it is impressive.
But he canāt say anything. Thereās nothing to write down a worshipful chant on. Heās tired and hurt and heās been walking what feels like all day. Finding focus is hard.
Dipper scrunches his face up, rubbing at his eyes. Things went all blurry for a second, and he has kind of a headache.Ā
What does he do, another smile? But Bill said that was āflauntingā. and maybe thatās not great. Another expression, maybe. Some kind of gesture. Body language has a lot of options andā¦ heās run out of ideas for that. Maybe his brain really is working with too-little fluid.
āHmmā¦ā Bill rubs his chin, glancing at Dipper - then staring out into the room again. His eye narrows.Ā
Shit, right, this was meant to impress. Dipper, fumbling the devout test for like, the millionth time in his life. Only right now, when it truly matters, heās too messed up to manage even if he tried.Ā
Before Bill can get too mad, Dipper hunches over. Looking contrite might stave off the worst of it. He can make himself look small.
Thereās a long beat of silence. Then Bill claps him on the shoulder. āNo worries, kid. This aināt my first time with a human wandering in with mortal wounds and a poor sense of grandeur! You can tell me how great I am later.āĀ
The rush of relief Dipper feels is immediately ruined by Bill dragging him forward again. So much for a true reprieve; infinite being of pure energy means never stopping for a second of rest, apparently.
āI got just the thing for a squishy little nervous wreck like you,ā Bill says, striding forward confidently towards one of the walls, and a door Dipperās 90% sure wasnāt there even three seconds ago. āWeāll stash you here until youāre more settled down!ā
The door opens, and Dipperās led into a small, dark place. He can make out vague, squarish shapes in the dim light. Thankfully none of them look too imposing.Ā
Another snap, and the room lights up.Ā
For the second time in about as many minutes, Dipperās totally thrown.
āKitchenās through there, bathroomās thataway,ā Bill says, gesturing in the respective directions. He gives Dipperās shoulder a squeeze, jerking his thumb behind himself. āIāll be back out this way if you get bored!ā
The words run though Dipperās brain, but heās not truly focusing on them. The room heās in has most of his attention. No matter how he looks at it, though, he canāt see any traps. It just looksā¦
Comfy?
The light reveals a smaller room than the living one, and one thatās far less dramatic. None of the tchotkes lying around. Basically zero ostentation. Thereās a wardrobe and a bed, a dark blue carpet rather than the black. A desk, some papers, and an absurdly large and obsessively organized looking bookshelf. The two doors Bill mentioned lie closed, on two different walls.
Dipperās not sure what he was expecting, but. The simpler decoration, the small but cozy setup - none of which fits Billās taste, thatās clear even on a glance. This isnāt meant for the god himself.Ā
Now thereās a question heās never considered before: Does Bill Cipher ever have guests in his realm?Ā
The answer must be āyesā, strange as it seems. Nothing in here is Billās vibe, but it might fit a human that he needed to stash somewhere.
Beside him, he hears a low hum. Billās hand runs down Dipperās shoulder, onto his back. It strokes down, then up again - then pushes him forward. āEnjoy!ā
Dipper stumbles a couple steps before catching the footboard of the bed. He leans against it, blinking rapidly.
āNow, I got a quick errand to run, so take your time getting comfy. Cram some calories in, wash your crevices, take a nap. Whatever human stuff needs doing.ā Bill looks up from checking his watch, then gives him a wink, backing out of the room with double finger guns pointed. āSee ya soon!ā
The door closes behind him without even a touch on the knob. The room goes quiet.Ā
Dipper cocks his head to one side. Billās absence is just as palpable as his presence. That powerful thrum of magic trails into the distance as he heads off, fading in Dipperās senses, like a too-loud stereo speaker in an obnoxious, demonic car.
After a moment, he shucks off his robe - with the sleeve torn off, itās weird and uncomfortable. That leaves him in just soft pants and his undershirt, but thankfully with considerable privacy.
As long as heās here, Dipper does a quick inspection of the room. The bedās bigger than any one heās ever seen, minus the one thatās presumably Billās. The wardrobe contains a baffling array of flannel shirts, in that theyāre almost all identical and oddlyā¦ worn? He shuts the doors with a shrug. Hardly the most intimidating find.Ā
A thorough overview reveals no traps, no knives. The sharpest thing in the room is the pens. The worst thing that could happen to Dipper here is a papercut. Or maybe stubbing his toe on the heavy furniture.Ā
Itās been a few minutes. Dipper glances at the door Bill retreated through. Still closed.
He hears no sound from the other room, either. He strains to feel some magic returning, a bloom in his limited senses, but itās calm and quiet.Ā
Whatever Billās up to, heās long gone.
Leaving Dipper totally unsupervised.
Dipper instantly darts for the opposite door, opening it fast enough that it nearly unbalances him. It swings opens easily, totally unlocked, and he braces himself as he stares -Ā
Into a kitchen.Ā
A big one, at that. Lots of cabinets, a fridge, a stove, knives hanging on the wall in what looks like a rather ominous manner, until Dipper remembers thatās where knives are supposed to be. Though maybe not so many of them.
Also, totally not an exit.Ā
Fine, whatever. They couldnāt all be exits, and thereās another to try.
Dipper rushes over to the second door, yanking it open to revealā¦ exactly what Bill said, again.Ā
He lingers this time, leaning on the knob. Rubbing at his eyes briefly, in case that ruins the illusion Billās cast. It doesnāt have any effect.
Itās - this is way too straightforward. It has to be some type of trick.
Pretty weird for it to be so clean, then.
Any bathroom Bill has should be blood-splattered, or filled with bubbling acid - but this one only smells faintly of bleach. Itās lined with black and white tiling, with a shower that looks overly complicated and a bathtub that could fit several people inside. At least thereās no knives in this room - though Dipper does see a safety razor, resting on the sink. Right next to the cup holding the blue toothbrush.
He slams the second door closed, and takes a deep breath.
Maybe heās disoriented. Maybe Bill turned everything around when he left, like every other corridor in this chaotic place, and maybe if Dipper yanks opens the third door -the one he came through - itāll cleave between the realms, back into the ritual room, where -Ā Ā
Dipper leans on the doorframe, slowing down his breathing. He shuts his eyes, lips drawing into a thin line.
Or it could just be. Literally the exact same one he came in through.Ā
Standing in the doorway of Bill Cipherās personal quarters, Dipper frowns at the fireplace. And at the painting over it. Especially at the even more grandiose door that presumably leads to the godās master bedroom. Itās beautiful, alright, Dipper canāt argue with that - but also ostentatious, and reeking of smug power.
Itās very quiet inside, too. No motion, no magic.
After a bit of hesitation, he leans his head in, checking both ways.Ā
No Bill around, at all.Ā
He must have actually taken off, instead of lying in wait, ready to surpriseā¦ The person heĀ told exactly where he could be found. Which isn't much of an ambush, come to think of it.
Dipper lets his arms drop to his sides, then winces and rubs the bandage on his recently stitched one.Ā
When he came into this place, he had a lot of expectations. All of them were backed up by years of knowledge about Bill Cipher. His likes and dislikes, unpredictability, and his bizarre proclivities.
So far, Dipperās seenā¦ not a safe place, by a long shot. But way less dangerous than what he thought heād face.
In fact, aside from the trip to get here and parts of the medical experience, this has been way too normal.Ā
Bill Cipher is a being veiled in mystery, or, depending on your viewpoint, mischief. Never totally meaning what he says, rarely acting like youād think. Even in the most stodgy of ceremonies, the priest had to leave room for the fact that Billās not veryā¦ conventional. The research Dipper did on his own had similar things to say. Between sermon and study, that alone has been a constant.
Dipper taps his foot on the floor. The carpet remains soft and nonthreatening. The fireplace crackles warmly, and does not consume the room in a terrifying blaze.
What is he supposed to make of all this?
The priest claimed that only he could interpret the subtle signs of Billās true meaning, and what actions to take. He was dead wrong about that. Courtesy of the god he claimed to understand, for that matter.Ā
The rest of the congregation canāt offer any insight, either; theyāre back in the compound - but frankly? Dipper wouldnāt trust them to interpret a microwave timer, much less their god.
According to scripture, it takes ages of experience, along with deep personal knowledge, to even begin to understand Billās motives. One young human like Dipper would never stand a chance.
But if heās here anywayā¦
Dipper traces his fingers along the wall, making his way quietly, cautiously, into the room.Ā
Why not get started? Itās not like he has anything else to do.Ā
Having something to study will help pass the time, as long as heās here. And with this wealth of information in front of him, who could resist?
As he walks into the place, he doesnāt burst into flame, or turn inside out, or get tossed into an eternal void of constant screaming. So, itās probably okay.Ā
He takes a deep breath, and lets it out. It only shakes a little.Ā
Besides, navigating around an immortal being of eternal knowledge canāt be that different from sneaking around the compound. All evidence so far is that Billās actually friendlier about it.
One thingās pretty certain - heās not likely to obliterate a guy heās just spent several hours getting āsettledā. If anything, heās sorta intimated that Dipperās a āguestā. Billās likely not magically bound to the rules of hospitality, but violating them is pretty universally gauche.
The thought makes Dipperās shoulders drop. He pats the wall a couple times, then checks his wrist. The bright yellow triangle stays still, overly-large hand still giving a thumbs-up.
Dipper rolls his eyes. Okay. Thereās one fact learned - Bill Cipherās capable of being kind of a dork.
This could actually be pretty intriguing. Useful, perhaps. In the heart of Billās home, with all of his stuff lying around - like that pile of books near the couch, or that pile of dishes he saw in the sink, or the fact that he even has a guest room, what the hell is with that -Ā
Dipper can get firsthand information. No more dilapidated scrolls, or censored books, or scrounging around outside to find objective sources.Ā
Bill Cipher, as far as Dipper can tell, actually lives here. In these exact rooms.Ā
He can try and hide the truth as much as he likes, or lie to Dipperās face, but he canāt hide his living room. Hanging out in your own place is the most authentic anyone can be, god or not.Ā
With that in mind, Dipper gets to the investigation.
Without context, itās hard to discern what most of the objects around mean. Whether theyāre regularly used, or just for display. Until Dipper sees Bill actually interacting with the stuff he has, heāll just file that information away for later.
About three circuits of the living room, Dipper catches sight of the portrait above the fireplace again. The one with Bill himself, crowned and stepping on the world. Scepter in hand, his single eye beholding -Ā
Ah, right. The eye thing.Ā
Dipper backs up, very slowly. As a parting gesture, he throws a little wave at the portrait, and another ācuteā smile.
Then he darts right the hell back into his room, and pulls the door along with him. He lets his head drop back against the wood, and closes his eyes.
Shit. Shit. Of course he wasnāt roaming around freely. There was oversight.Ā
Hopefully Billās busy enough to not have cared about a couple minutes of āwanderingā. As far as he knows, that was, uhā¦ Dipper got lost, right. That sounds believable. Maybe he was even looking for Bill himself.Ā
But snooping? No, definitely not. Why would anyone do that.
Welp. Thatās about that, then. Three doors, three results, and zero exits.Ā
Sure, itās possible that Billās room does have a way out, but between the odds of being caught, and the odds of getting lost in the twisting, recursive corridors if he did manage to find it -
Yeah, Dipperās going to pass.Ā
He saw the other āguestsā around this realm, and they didnāt look like the types to leave blood on the inside.Ā
On the upside heās survived the night. Morning. Whatever time of day it is.Ā
Bill wants Dipper alive, which is strange and confusing and more than a little concerning- but itās also a huge weight off his shoulders.
Dipper turns to pull the door fully closed behind him, then hesitates.Ā
After debating for a bit, he settles on leaving the door slightly ajar. Hearing when Bill comes back seems like a good idea, while keeping him out doesnāt.Ā
But if Bill were to, say, see a door semi-open and shut it himself, then hey. Kinda his fault for not paying attention. No blame on any humans here.
Ugh, Dipperās losing focus again; he shakes his head to clear it. His legs feel sluggish too, after the long journey and the.. āGetting lostā. They stumble as he takes another step.Ā
After such a long day. After getting hurt, and dragged around, and everything else thatās happened, heās just so tired.Ā
Just like during the sacrifice, he has to focus on the real priority - and right now? Itās not the immortal, insane demon god.Ā
With a weary sigh, Dipper looks for a place to sit down.Ā
Even pulling the chair out from the desk seems like an ordeal. And while the bedās far too large for just one person, it's here and empty. Presumably Dipperās meant to use it, anyway.
And when he takes a seat, it doesnāt leap up to bite him. It doesnāt release any poisoned spikes when he tests the mattress with a quick press of the palm, or snap closed around him when rolls on top of the sheets. The blankets are smooth, without a hint of scratchiness.
Dipper breathes in, and lets it out slowly. He rubs a hand on the top blanket, patting it once or twice, before letting his eyes shut.
Itās just. So, so soft.Ā
Weirdly springy too, compared to his old cot. A mixture of sink and bounce, so that Dipper almost feels like heāll get absorbed into it like jello, or get thrown out of it if he moves the wrong way.Ā
Shifting his weight, Dipper frowns as he tucks the pillow under his head. How could anyone sleep on something like this? Itās totally impossible.
----------------
Dipper wakes up with a damp pillow under his cheek, a slight headache in his temples, and a sore and aching wrist.Ā
He rolls onto his side with a groan, moving to a drier section of pillow.Ā
Great, he drooled in his sleep again. Super gross. Another reason that not having a tongue sucks.
Itās warm in the room, though, and quiet. His head hurts, so he needs some water. And his wrist hurts, too. Which isnāt surprising after being sliced open.Ā
Whatās more surprising is that he actually managed to get some rest afterwards. The whole compound is full of people celebrating or arguing after a ritual goes down. Usually thereās some of both, but right now itās so quiet that he could swear nobodyās -
With a snort, Dipper jerks his head up off the pillow. He props himself up on his elbow, rubbing at his eyes.
Shit, of course. Heās not in the compound anymore.Ā
Nobody is around, because heās been taken away by their literal goddamned god, and stowed in this too-big, too-normal room in this alien place. Without other worshipers, who wouldā¦ probably make things worse, if heās being honest.
Dipper stuck here, fending for himself. Heās been subjected toā¦ minor medical attention. And a nice bed, and a drink. Not to mention having his first uninterrupted nap in ages.Ā
Thinking about it, itās kinda hard to see a downside.Ā
One will make itself known eventually. Dipperās not so naive as to think this is altruism, not from Bill Cipher.
As he sits up, the blankets fall off him and pool into his lap, heavy and soft. For a moment, heās tempted to pull them back up and curl into the nice, warm bed, under the gentle covers.
But thatās probably not the best idea, considering.Ā
God, he canāt believe he just fell asleep like that. In the house of a nightmare demon, Dipper just went and dropped off like a total, vulnerable moron.
And shit, itās dark in here.Ā
He doesnāt remember turning off the lights. Or where the lightswitch is, for that matter. He can sort-of make out the furniture around him, some kind of ambient illumination, perhaps. A bit of light also shines out from the closed door leading to Billās room.Ā
Somewhere in there, he hears footsteps, and then silence. The feel of that powerful magic, leaking in like the light under the doorframe.
Dipper fiddles with the edge of the blanket. Some kind of quilt, he guesses, one thatās faintly frayed at the edges. Itās very soft.Ā
At minimum, heās been in Billās house for several hours. His best guess puts it between half to all of a day, depending on how long he slept.Ā
Despite all Dipperās learned about the godās unavoidable wrath, and his infinite, changeable whims -
It hasnāt been too bad. So far.
Dipper rubs his fingers together, leg jogging under the sheets. Eventually he realizes heās pulling threads out of the quilt, and hisses through his teeth.Ā
At some point, the other shoe will drop. Bill Cipher is capricious, his favor doubly so.
And nothing ever works out in Dipperās favor, not even once.Ā
But maybe, if he works at it now - he might be able to make some headway. Hiding away in the bedroom wonāt help with that.
Getting up out of the bed is an effort, but his legs feel steady on the floor and his vision is clear. Dipper takes a deep, calming breath. He turns the knob, and peeks out into the roomĀ
āHey hey! Look whoās back in the waking world. In a way.ā Bill waves at him with a bright grin. Great, Dipper got spotted basically instantly. āGet over here! I need ya to check this out.ā
There it is. His first order.Ā
Dipper shuts his eyes, and walks into the room. He swallows, and drops into the fist form of ritual bow, knees thumping on the carpet.Ā
This absolutely sucks. The one minor upside is that there is a carpet; Dipperās not going to ruin his knees if he has to do this ten times a day.
Hanging around a god, heāll be lucky if he spends any time not bowing and scraping and generally genuflecting. Though the idea makes him burn inside, he grits his teeth.Ā
He can cope. Heās been through worse. If nothing else, Billās more interesting than the daily grind back at the compound. Albeit in a semi-terrifying way.
āHuh.ā Bill says. Dipper mentally checks his posture, but no, itās perfect. Wait - he forgot to press his hands together, right.Ā
āHuh.ā Bill says, this time soundingā¦Ā
Not very thrilled.Ā
Freezing in place, Dipper runs through his options. In a better world, heād be able to start doing some chant or whatever, but thatās off the table. A quick peek at Bill shows that heās not impressed, so. Read that right.Ā
Also not very good. What else is there, though, what can he -Ā
A long, heavy sigh interrupts his thoughts. Billās started rubbing at the bridge of his nose.Ā
āYeah, yeah, I get it. A totally devout kinda guy.ā Billās voice is very dry. He taps one impatient finger on the table. āReally feeling all the religious passion, here.ā
The clear sarcasm makes Dipper wince. God, of course Bill isnāt fooled. Seeing into the hearts and minds of men as he does, one small human is transparent as hell. He knows exactly what Dipper thinks of him, doesnāt he.
Shit, heās likely seen everything.Ā
āBut sure, if youāre so devoted, you should get up already.ā Billās tone lightens, and he gives a quick beckoning gesture. That eternal smile bounces back into place. āCāmon, kid. You canāt scrape your nose on the carpet and check out what I asked you to.ā
Dipper scrambles to his feet, brushing nonexistent dirt off his pants. Itās a decent excuse not to meet the godās eye.
He shuffles slowly forward until he stands next to the god. Logically that should make him nervous. He should be sweating and terrified -Ā
But damn it, Dipper really hates genuflecting, and Billās total lack of interest is actually, maybe, kind of cool of him.
For a bright moment Dipper thinks there might not be any of that sort of thing,Ā until a robe flops to the ground in front of him.Ā
Ah. A not-very-subtle hint, there. Dipper takes a breath to steady himself -Ā
Then a second robe right on top of the one on the ground. And a third. A fourth follows that nearly hits a cabinet on the wall, and Dipper decides he probably missed the mark.Ā
Billās not making a point. Heās just messy.
āJeez, with this many robes, youād think they could make a few of āem fashionable.ā Bill lets out a low whistle. When Dipper glances over, heās rifling through those cardboard boxes with a frown. āAccessorize! Embroider! Stain āem with ichor! This crap is just boring.ā
All their robes were pretty identical, but that was the point. To lose oneās individuality, and become a perfect servant for the god. Bill doesnāt sound as appreciative as he should be.Ā
And where the hell did he get all of these, anyway?Ā
The boxes on the table are dilapidated, reused cardboard. None of it matches the style or the reality of thisā¦ apartment? House? Something?Ā
Bill chucks yet another robe over his shoulder with a snort. āAnd donāt get me started on the shape. Or the color!ā He sticks his tongue out, letting a final robe dangle from his fingers like heās holding a dead rat. āI woulda picked something way cooler.ā
Whatever his definition of ācoolerā is, Dipper doesnāt want to know. Bill catches his skeptical look and Dipper quickly tamps it down.
That single golden eye blinks, then he beckons Dipper closer with a grin. āGet over here, sapling. I gotta know if weāre dealing with the full inventory or not.ā
There goes Bill, again. Talking about something without giving Dipper any context for it whatsoever. Likely thatās a sign of things to come.Ā
All the books about Bill Cipher say heās ācrypticā. Now Dipperās wondering if that was supposed to be a euphemism for āannoyingā.Ā
Dipper squeezes his hands tight at his sides. Not the kind of thing he should be thinking. Instead, he nods, and checks the boxes as requested.Ā
His god continues messing with the contents, plucking out this and that. Another robe, discarded easily. He sets aside a small ritual set of candles, a setting for ritual offerings. All very distinct. They could have come from Dipperās own congregation, theyāre so familiar.Ā
Wait - but they are.Ā
He remembers Bill asking them to pack up stuff, distantly. He didnāt think about what it was for, other than, like, another weird god request.Ā
But these arenāt just anyoneās things.Ā
No, he recognizes that robe, with the chewed-on sleeve, and that set of trinkets. Hell, all of said robes have similar wear and tear, the same, slightly oversized look.Ā
Dipper glances at the boxes, then back to Bill. Though he canāt speak to ask the question, it must be obvious in his face.
āYep! This is your stuff, Pine Tree.ā Bill points a finger gun, giving Dipper a wink. āI asked those imbeciles back in your cult to grab it for ya. Since youāre staying here with me, and all.ā
Dipperās mouth works, but no sound comes out; he shuts it quickly. Bill, uncaring, flicks a finger at a candle and watches it light with a smirk.Ā
He just- Said it.
Bill Cipher himself called his religion a ācultā.Ā
He actually admitted it. Under any other circumstances that would be absolute blasphemy, but the āgodā himself just casually tossed out that the entire stupid religion is kinda full of it and he isnāt even bothered by it.Ā
Dipper wants to sit down, but there's no chair nearby. He braces himself on the table instead.
āDonāt get it wrong, Iām still the biggest, baddest being youāll ever meet! But your group of losers pretended to speak for me.ā Bill continues. Something about Dipperās shock seems to have caught his attention. He throws his arms in the air in disgust. A carelessly held candelabra goes flying. āWhen I wanna give orders, I handle that crap myself.ā
Dipper nods again, kind of numbly.
Yeah, that - that actually tracks. The gap between the Bill he was told about, and the Bill that is, is too vast to be ignored.Ā
Obviously Billās weird, itās part of his basic makeup - but if anything, he matches up more with the Bill that Dipper read about in forbidden texts, instead of the one heard at every sermon. And thatā¦
Honestly, it feels pretty good. Being right. Or right-adjacent; Dipperās not naive enough to think he has the whole picture yet. Still, being more correct than anyone else? Makes Dipper almost smile.Ā
Itāll get clearer. Thereās time, heās not dead yet.Ā
And who the hell knows what else Dipperās going to learn, while heās staying in Billās home. The only thing he can predict is that half the things will come totally out of left field.
A nudge on his side catches his attention again. āSo! Does this cover everything, or do I gotta nightmare some guys into coughing up the rest?ā Bill twirls a thin candle between his fingers idly, and raises an eyebrow. āAnything you wanna keep, or stuff you wanna obliterate?ā
The startled look on Dipperās face must surprise him, because Bill blinks a few times. āWhat? Itās your crap, sapling.ā He offers a half-bow, and a wink. āYour gracious host here, at your service.ā
Wow, uh, that - Dipper has to turn away for a moment. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling oddly -
Damn it, getting distracted is bad. He has to shape up. Bill might decide heāll be less gracious if Dipper doesnāt freakinā focus, nowās not the time to look incompetent.Ā
He offers Bill a shrug, and a noncommittal wave, then tilts the closest box towards himself.
If heās going to figure out what to do with his things, he might as well check whatās shown up. A part of Dipperās surprised that thereās this much of it.Ā
Actually... there's that miniature altar that ādisappearedā, and a pair of shoes that walked off by themselves. A scattering of little baubles, mostly bare-bones ritual stuff that everyone got handed out. Even though Dipperās seemed to roll down a grate or get flushed somehow.Ā
Guess Billās order really got people motivated to find his things. Thereās stuff here that hasnāt made an appearance in ages.
Nearby, Billās put on his expectant look again. Dipperās getting used to it.Ā
Whatever Billās looking for, he hasnāt bothered to explain it in the slightest. Much like every other interaction with the guy. It must be pretty good though, because thereās a tinge of eagerness to his expression.
Dipper turns away to poke at the items on the table.
He almost feels bad that he doesnāt know what Billās looking for. Even though thereās no logical reason he should. Mind-reading is Billās thing, not his followersā.Ā
Well, whatever. Bill can put that face on all he likes. Unless he has a few helpful hints on hand, heās just gonna have to wait.
As for the possessions - A quick evaluation of the first box of stuff revealsā¦ mostly things he doesnāt care about either way. On the other hand, heās never had this many things before, and it would feel weird to just. Dispose of them this easily.Ā
But then againā¦Ā
He never has liked the robes.
Tentatively, Dipper points at the cloth on the floor, then cuts a finger over his throat.Ā
Bill made his opinion on them clear, so. If he agrees. Maybe Dipper actually wonāt need them during his stay in this -Ā Ā
A sudden burst of blue flame startles him; Dipper jumps in place, going tense.
Noted - be careful about inviting Bill to destruction, because he does not hesitate.
āGreat!ā Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. āHalf done - now letās wrap this up and move onto something more fun.ā
Patience must not be Billās strong suit, because he turns the boxes upside down, dumping everything out on the table. A few broad swipes spread it over the wood, a careless tumble of whatās, honestly, mostly junk.
Some of it was clearly just tossed in to make the box more full; the top layer is all stuff from the ritual room. As for the stuff that is his, well. How much of it could he actually need? Thereās candles, a bunch of knickknacks that he didnāt even like when he was still in the, well. Cult. Thereās a thick worn notebook, and his journal with its slightly tattered cover and the bookmark still in place -
Shit. Shit, shit shit.Ā
Dipperās heart leaps into his throat. He glances at Bill, then back to the table.Ā
How did they find that, it was under the loose rock in the corner. Did they know all this time that he had this. Did they not care, or was it truly hidden and only discovered later. How the hell did it survive all the way here?Ā
However it got here - thatās. All his notes, all his research. All his thoughts, lying there for Bill to -
Wait. Bill.Ā Hasnāt noticed, yet.Ā
Heās picked up a tiny brass necklace. His eye narrows as it dangles from his fingers. Not surprising; it is a pretty awful portrayal. The angles are anything but even.Ā
And while heās distracted, Dipper makes a grab for the books.Ā
He times it right; as Bill tosses the necklace away and into the fireplace, he slides both books across the table, tucking them into his pants and under his shirt.Ā
Not the first time heās hidden contraband - and probably not the last. A quick check on Bill shows a totally nonchalant demon, slightly bored with the junk in front of him. Either he truly didnāt notice - or doesnāt care about what Dipper pulled. Either oneās a win.Ā
Dipper feels tension seep out of his shoulders, and he shuts his eyes.
Compared to the god of fury and torture Dipper was taught about, the true god is relatively even-tempered. So far.Ā
But he already knows how bad it gets, when something terrible is spoken about his god. Thereās no way Bill would like reading what Dipper wrote about him.Ā
āAha!ā Bill exclaims, and yanks his latest prize out of the pile, holding it in the air. āKnew there had to be something good in here.ā
Dipper takes one look at whateverās got Bill so enamored -Ā and makes a face.
Oh no. He forgot aboutā¦. that.Ā
āMaybe being ādevoutā isnāt your style, but there might be a better term.ā Billās sharp teeth are white in his smile. He flicks one of the ragged felt arms, squeezing the yellow ātorsoā. āHowās āobsessedā fit ya?ā
The stupid awful Bill Cipher plushie dangles limply in his grip. As Bill gives it another squeeze, some more of the stuffing puffs out. Worn as it already is, with one of the legs missing and the pupil in the eye worn away, it makes the entire thing look twice as pathetic.
Dipper staunchly resists the urge to hide under the table. Itās too late anyway. Heās not escaping this now.
Who the hell decided to pack that? Itās ugly and stupid and juvenile. If Dipper had been able to choose what he brought along, he would have deliberately left it behind. Maybe burned it, so nobody else would know he still had one.
As it stands, heās torn between being glad itās here - and totally goddamned humiliated.
He makes a quick grab for it, but Bill dodges him with a grin.Ā
āAh ah ah! Nice try.ā He waggles it again, beaming bright. āI knew it! Youāre super interested in me, arenāt you? Was this little guy your favorite? Didja cuddle up with him in bed every night?ā
Asshole probably saw all of that happen, and now heās taunting. Dipper grits his teeth, hands clenching by his sides.Ā
Damn it, itās not Dipperās fault there werenāt a lot of soft things in the cult. Who cares if he had something that made his life suck a little less? Especially one that flatters Bill himself. If anything Bill should be pleased, knowing he got some devotion from this less-than-pious human-Ā but instead heās being an ass about it.
āIām right, of course.ā Bill says, with smug certainty. āOlā mini-me here got oodles of affection, didnāt he?ā He rubs his chin thoughtfully, backing up as Dipper turns around the table corner in pursuit. āNow letās seeā¦ā
Dipper sucks in a breath, watching Bill bring it to his face. His teeth bared in a sharp smile, mouth slightly open.Ā
Bill shuts his eye, and puffs a breath over the plush. For a second Dipper thinks itās about to be consumed in fire, he stumbles forward in protest.Ā
But though itās blue all over, it doesnāt burn. As he watches, the hole in the side closes over, stuffing concealed. Some of the minor stains come out, the stitching of the bricks turns black and pristine. The second leg dangles beside the other, the eye is full and renewed and only maybe blinks.
Dipper stops his chase, pausing with his hand on the table.Ā
That plush hasnāt looked anywhere near that good since he was little. Bill acted like it was nothing to him. Bill thought it was funny. He could have turned it into nothing, just for kicks - and itās.Ā
Every time he thinks he knows what Bill Cipher is up to, his expectations get turned upside down and shaken for loose change. Dipper doesnāt think heāll ever get used to it.
Bill looks over his work with pride, picking up one of the arms to shake it. āNice to meet ya, Bill! Iām the real, better Bill.ā He pauses, then nods solemnly, as if it responded. āYeah, I am the greatest. Glad you noticed!ā
And in a stunningly unsurprising turn of events, Billās also going to be obnoxious about this.Ā
Bill brings the plushie right up to Dipperās face, pitching his voice higher. āOooh, Pine Tree, Iām so glad to see ya! Youāre my favorite human.ā He lifts the felt arms in a floppy invitation for a hug. āI love you sooooo much!ā
Dipper feels his lips draw into a thin line, while Billās mouth arches up in a grin.Ā
āWhatās that?ā Bill cups his ear as if to hear better. āYou want a kiss?ā Dipper shakes his head, but not before Bill starts mashing the stupid plush against his cheeks. He tries fending it off, but Billās quick enough to find every gap in his defenses. Also, heās making exaggerated kissy sounds. āMwah mwah mwah!ā
Dipper snatches the stupid plush from Billās stupid hand, then turns right on his heel and storms back to the guest room.Ā
Behind him, he hears Bill cackling with laughter.
He knew he was in for some kind of trial. A type of torment. What heās faced so far hasnāt been terrible. Or much at all, compared to when he was back with the congregation.Ā
This god isnāt quite the creature of eternal nightmares and torment that he was always told about. Instead he has other motives, ones too strange and subtle to interpret. Dipper should be thankful.
A glance backward shows said god slumped on the couch, cackling to himself with one hand on his forehead.Ā
But Bill sure thinks heās fucking hilarious.
Dipper slams the door shut, as loud as he can. It doesnāt quite block out the continuing laughter. He slumps against the door, letting out a long, tired sigh.
Great. He doesnāt know what else he expected.
Bill Cipherās a total asshole.
#I meant to get this done quicker but my body betrayed me with illness#Probably coulda done another editing pass but I am tired and need a nap#Apologies for all of this; My November was kinda bad and then I compensated by writing Hella Fluff#Gotta wait till next part for Bill to find out the reason Dip's so quiet#That's going to be very fun :3c#For me that is#Uhhh anything else that I can add as a fun note#There's one particular scene that made me go yeah this is a good reason to write a shitton of words to get there#Because I am a fool#Hope this was fun to read you guys!! I am gonna take a friggin' nap
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Wow lol Baaulp is looking different than I remember from last t-
oh thats not baaulp
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She finally addressed the visuals. But at what cost... cr. themegamega on IG
#beyonce#no cause I saw them flags at the beginning of the show i thought she liked us coulda fooled me#let's blame this on jay-z somehow
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"You should be addicted to shutting the fuck up"
"You want to fuck me so bad it makes u look stupid"
#honestly either one can say either line#its still 100% accurate#butchlander#the boys#billy butcher#homelander#bily in s1: u should be addicted to shutting the fuck up#billy in s4 after a tenuous truce between the 2#and lots of flirting: u want to fuck me so bad#homelander: I would never! im not GAY#billy: that stiffy in yer pants coulda fooled me#or alternatively#those puppy dog eyes ya keep givin me say otherwise#I mean is the latter not already canonat this point sksks
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Listen, Novik, I greatly appreciate you naming a singular homosexual in your 7th volume of this series, but I gotta say, you could have implied it just a little bit beforehand. I love the guy, but despite my otherwise impeccable skill at picking this stuff up, I had no freaking clue.
#I'm still reading the Temeraire series#'I am an invert' are you INDEED coulda fooled me buddy but congrats and I'm sorry#literary chatter
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omg. emma sidi in the hotdog suit. and alex is in fact right. she DOESNT look that much different
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#i thought this was porn for altogether too far down the gif set Wait, youāre saying itās not?
Weāll wait right here and weāll, I donāt know, shoot the courier when he comes out.
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another difference between the nhl and mlb that ive noticed is that when they call a prospect up in hockey it's usually a guy you've spent like years anticipating or at least vaguely aware of, meanwhile in baseball they tell you "today we're calling up zebby matthews, the fastest rising pitching prospect in the sport" and you're like "who and also, what"
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šThat feeling of success when the Moon is doing its monthly or couple monthly (depending on the aspect) difficult round with a slower moving planet that itās been interacting with in those annoying ways significant to your chart for monthsā¦ but, hold up š§ you canāt even tell this time! š
Astrology can bring proof of emotional healing progress. ā¤ļøāš©¹
#the Moon has been square SaturnšŖ today?! āļøāļø#coulda fooled me this is the best mood Iāve had in a while but this transit has previously announced itself with sheer desperation!#astrology#astrology observations#astrology transits#saturn in pisces#moon in gemini#Moon square Saturn#emotional healing#spiritual healing#moon in astrology#pisces rising
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Ppl are like o no luffys lifespan (impel down, gear 2, gear 4)
What if gear 5 revitalised it considering he technically died to achieve the awakening
#like wouldnt that be extra funny?#hes like wow im all better now#not how medical works luffy and hes like coulda fooled me wahoo#and there he goesā¦ to find one pieceā¦
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Doing a little rewatch of the second season and I just was watching Zelda's wedding, and I am loving the family crest banners up in the church. I mean just look:
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(https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2PtaM7Q/) sorry to say I just found out itās not actually Mo ššš looks a lot like him tho šØš¾āš¦¼
im not even gonna lie i woulda fully believed that was him if you hadnt told me
#like shit bro coulda fooled me#its uncanny lmaoooo#ty for the ask <3#mo salah#liverpool fc#lfc#liverpool
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